


Just for you, waiting and wanting...

by Durinsbride



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, M/M, Rimming, Smut Fic, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durinsbride/pseuds/Durinsbride
Summary: Dean comes back after a late night on a hunt to find Sam sprawled out on the bed, waiting for him.





	Just for you, waiting and wanting...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr: http://wincestheaven.tumblr.com/post/179069150553 and by the lovely image that accompanies it.

Sam was drifting somewhere between true sleep and wakefulness, warm and surprisingly comfortable on the ratty motel bed, sinking further into the mattress, and into dreams, with every deep, slow breath, his body pleasantly warm and loose from a long, hot shower. A pleasant ache was tugging at him from somewhere beneath his naval, the lingering arousal left over from his half-hearted, soft strokes under the spray just moments before, roused from thoughts of bright green eyes, a soft, sinfully lush mouth, and strong, gentle hands.

“ _Hey Sammy, you awake_?” Comes the quiet whisper just a moment after the door opens slowly behind him. There’s the muted creak of its hinges, the muffled thump of its closing, and then–nothing. Not a whisper of movement, of feet moving across the carpet, because Dean is nothing if not stealthy, and long years of practice means he can cross a room like a shadow, a thought barely formed. Like Kwai Chang Caine and the rice paper…

Yet no matter how masterful his brother moves, Sam can always sense him–always has, always will. His brother sounds out like a beacon through the dark, the warmth of his body like a gentle pulse in the space between them. And when Sam takes another breath, waking further, there is suddenly Dean’s familiar scent: warm, rich, sharp. 

The scent of home. 

Of love.

Sam sighs as the ache in his groin intensifies, and he grinds down into the mattress beneath him, rocking against the firm surface beneath his bare hips, groaning softly at the bright spike of bliss the movement awards him.

“Dean?” He whispers back, blinking away the remnants of near-sleep and long, tousled hair from his eyes, turning his head to look over one bare shoulder for the tall, lean silhouette of his brother.

He’s there, standing just at the foot of the bed, the same soft lips and sinfully lush mouth of Sam’s fevered fantasies now parted softly, and those bright green eyes, shadowed now from the dark and from other, heated contemplations, tracing a leisurely path over the broad line of Sam bare shoulders, the graceful dip of his lower back, before pausing to linger on the soft upward push of his bare, naked backside. 

As Sam watches, Dean swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, the tip of his tongue darting out at the corner of that (gorgeous) lush mouth to wet it at the corners, and an answering pulse drives his hips forward once again, his cock digging into the mattress, now fully hard and tight, aching for the release he denied himself earlier.

“S-sammy…” Dean whispers once more, but this time it’s a rougher, more broken plea than a greeting. Sam shudders at the sound of his brother’s voice, the weight of his brother’s eyes on his rapidly heating flesh. He can feel the phantom sensation of those lips that drive him out of his mind with every hot, urgent press, every taut, urgent slide of wet, succulent heat wrapped tight around his aching cock, and he groans again, louder and more urgently, hips shifting restlessly under his brother’s gaze.

“ _Look_ at you,” his brother breathes softly, bending forward to press one knee onto the mattress, raising his hand toward him, silver ring glinting in the moonlight before he reaches out to touch Sam’s bare flesh, his hand landing softly on one plump cheek of his bare ass, squeezing reflexively. Sam groans again at the touch, pushing upward into his brother’s grip, relishing that familiar touch. “Just… _look_ at you…” Dean continues, the tempo of his breath increasing, his caresses more ardent with each stroke. “ _God_ , Sam. All laid out like this…naked in the moonlight.”

His other hand joins the first, until both hands are full of the soft flesh of Sam’s taut ass. He sighs as he squeezes the firm muscle under his hands before parting Sam cheeks with his thumbs to reveal the sweet pink prize between, groaning at the sight of it. “That sweet, sweet pretty ass…bare in the moonlight, just begging for me to destroy it…”

“Such a romantic,” Sam quips, but’s its more breathless and urgent than sarcastic, and Dean huffs a laugh before bending forward, pressing his soft mouth against Sam’s rim, a gentle, puckered kiss that has his hips rocking urgently. “God, Dean…”

“Yeah, baby boy?”

“Love your mouth. God, I love it. Feels so _good_.”

He groans the last as Dean edges forward again, circling the rim of his asshole with the flat of his tongue, getting right in there with firm, wide strokes, groaning at the tastes.

“You're so good, “ Dean mumbles impatiently against his flesh. “Waiting like this for me. Just for me.”

Sam is panting now, unable to keep still under the steady, firm assault of Dean’s mouth on his rim, the rough point of his tongue pausing to dip inside, pushing gently at the rim of tight muscle to ease inside, and Sam is almost sobbing from the pleasure of it.

“Wasn’t…” he huffs, barely able to form words at this point, barely able to think with that hot, wet muscle invading his ass. “Wasn’t waiting. Took.” He bucked hard when he brother nipped softly at his rim, his hips bucking sharply under Dean’s hands before his brother pushes back, locking him down into place, the soft smacking sounds of his tongue driving Sam crazy–

“Took a shower!” He finished, before dropping to his shoulders on a wail, pushing his ass tight against Dean’s busy mouth, sobbing, ready to come from just this. Just this perfect, perfect bliss.

“Don’t stop, oh god, Dean, don’t _STOP_!”

All it takes is one rough stab of that talented tongue piercing his heated flesh and Sam comes apart, shouting out his release as his body shakes from head to toe, his cock pulsing sharp and hot between his legs before he shoots his load all over the mattress.

“Dean,” he’s crying out. “Dean...”

He can barely breathe, panting harshly as he looks over his shoulder to see his brother smirking, licking his mouth in satisfaction.

“That was round one, Sammy. You ready for some more?”

“Hell yeah,” Sam answers, turning over onto his back to watch his brother strip out of his clothes, that dark blue suit that makes him look like the perfect G-man, ready to haul his ass in to the authorities because he’s a wanted man.

Sam sighs, stroking his spent cock as he watches his brother slide the tie from around his neck. Watches him unbutton the tight white dress shirt, and start to slide it down his shoulders.

“Bring it on,” he adds, now thoroughly enjoying the show, popping a smile for his older brother, dimples and all.

Dean winks back. “That’s my boy, Sammy. That’s my boy.”


End file.
